Simplicity
by chasingafterstarlight
Summary: Lysander Scamander is simple. Everything is black or white with him. Molly Weasley II is complicated, complexity in its highest form. Yet somehow, together, they work. Molly/Lysander.


**Simplicity**

_oh simple thing, where have you gone?__  
><em>_I'm getting old and I need something to rely on__  
><em>_so tell me when you're gonna let me in__  
><em>_I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin  
><em>- **somewhere only we know, keanu**

Lysander Scamander is simple.

With him, everything either _is_ or _is not_. Things _are_ or they _are not_. There is no in between, just black and white. Nothing is complicated; nothing is deep. He's like a puddle, shallow and clear, _straight _to the point. He's not an object of complexity.

That is what makes him all the more fascinating to Molly Weasley.

Molly Weasley is complicated.

She's _complexity_ in its highest form- a well-woven spider web, an orchestra with swirling notes. Nothing she ever does is simple. Everything she does, she overanalyzes. Her words are never straightforward- they're cryptic, mysterious. She's hard to figure out.

This makes her even more intriguing to Lysander Scamander.

…

If you had to take a snapshot of their relationship, it would be late nights by the pond. Lysander had never held rules in high regard. On the other hand, Molly highly valued rules, but with Lysander, she couldn't help but loosen up. He told her _simply_, "One night by the pond can't hurt."

That one night turned into two, and then to three, four. Soon, it became a weekly tradition. Sunday nights, if you looked out the window of the Astronomy Tower, you would see Molly and Lysander, side by side.

Their discussions on the world are pure but never quite as simple as Lysander would like. Lysander's arguments are straight and paint the world as it is- "Molly, not everyone lives happily ever after." Her arguments weave the truth with fantasy- "Ly_san_der, in fairytales, people get happily ever afters. How can it not be possible in real life?"

But there's only one thing he says that gets to her. That one thing is that _love doesn't exist._

She doesn't get how he can say that. His mother and his father are deeply in love, and it's _real _love- the kind that transcends generations. If anyone were to say that, it would have to say her.

Her parents are always fighting. Her father's like her in the respect that everything goes by the rules, and it is completely wrong to break them, even if just to dream- which, of course, Molly does not follow that. She only follows rules that make sense. Her mum, however, is more like Lucy. She's always dreaming, always creatively thinking, always thinking of ways around things. She's outgoing and sweet and sort of funny.

This creates much of the discord in their house- fighting over what's _right_ and _wrong_. Most of the time, Molly doesn't even want to go home.

Whenever they argue about love, Lysander _oh-so-kindly_ brings up the touchy subject, as he's never been one for tact. "Look at your parents. Look at how they argue. They were _in love_, once upon a fairytale. What's happened to them now?"

"I told you, Lysander," Molly says quietly, blinking back tears. "People make stupid decisions sometimes and marry people who they… they just aren't compatible with." She bites her lip to think that her parents aren't compatible. "Look at your parents; they're completely in love, right?"

He shakes his head slowly- though whether it's at her tears or at her question, she doesn't know- and wraps his arms around her in a hug of pure comfort, as he usually does. She rests her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. If he knew, he would think her silly and sentimental, as he probably already does.

It's so hard to be in love with someone who doesn't believe in love.

…

During Easter vacation, Lucy manages to narrowly escape to go stay with the Potters. But Dominique's going to stay with the Potters too (she and James are rather close), so this holiday Molly has nowhere to escape to. She's forced to deal with the harsh reality of her parents' fights.

Immediately, she greets both her parents with stiff hugs and retreats to her room.

In the imminent silence, she tries to write, but nothing comes to her mind (is this what writers' block feels like?). She sighs, leans back in her bed, and waits.

The yelling begins, as if on cue. She puts her pillow over her head but nothing can drown out the noise from downstairs. Grabbing her black as the night sky coat from her chair (it'll surely help her blend in), she slips it on and rushes down the stairs, taking in the glares that soften upon seeing her. Quietly, she mutters, "I'm going outside."

Without waiting for a response, she pulls open the door and rushes out. With a frown, she realises it's raining- isn't it always in situations like this?- but she just bundles herself up in her coat and plops down on the street corner. She's a Gryffindor for some reason, isn't she?

Cars whizz by, but she ignores them. Her eyes drift up to the single star that hangs over the world, lonely, and she realises with a start how much she has in common with this one star. They're both lonely, both searching for their place in the wide sky of life. Both caught in the starlight of the other stars that shine like the sun.

She makes a wish like her mum's always taught her, and she wishes that Lysander was here. Silly as it sounds, she always feels better around him even if he makes her cry.

She's also a bit of an optimist, but don't tell anyone.

As if it's a scene out of some cliché movie, footsteps echo behind her. Without even turning around, she whispers into the darkness of the night, "Lysander."

"Molly," He whispers. "I was going to try and scare you, darn it. Guess that plan's ruined."

She turns around to face him and he notices the absolutely forlorn look on her face. Wordlessly, he pulls her to his chest. "Your parents are fighting again." There's no question in his voice.

She nods, burrowing her head into his chest and feeling her heart begin to sync up to the fast pace of his.

"Look," Lysander states, and there's still no question in his voice, "If this keeps up, you're coming to stay with my family and I. I don't care if it's morally wrong- actually, I don't care about _morals_."

"I care about morals," She mutters, but her voice breaks in the end.

"I don't like seeing you like this," He states firmly. "Lucy's not at home, why should you be? You shouldn't have to suffer because your parents have made some bad decisions. My parents are all- well, they're completely normal parents, and they appreciate you. Come on, we're going to get your bags and tell your parents."

There's no offering in his voice, no implication that she has a _choice_, so she just nods and follows him to the house.

…

She walks into the house, her fingers twined with Lysander's. Her mum wraps her in a hug, shaking her head, and Molly just looks at her with the sadness and grief in her eyes. Rushing up to her room, she packs everything she'll need for a few days, clutching the necklace Lucy gave her for her fifteenth birthday in one hand before shoving it in too.

Bag loaded with everything she needs, she rushes down to kiss her parents goodbye. Lysander just watches with eyes that don't seem to fathom what's going on. Once she hugs them one last time with tears in her eyes (and she realises that they don't even ask where she's going, they probably know already), she follows Lysander out the door and they walk a bit down the street to a place where it's safer to Apparate.

"Why do you still love your parents?" He whispers, as if he can't even figure it out. "All they do is bring you down and make you want to leave."

"What do you mean?" She retorts. "They're my family, Ly. My own flesh and blood. I can't very well betray them or _hate_ them, even. I love them. It doesn't make sense not to. Besides," She bites her lip, "One of these days they'll get it together and we'll be a family again."

He shakes his head, showing he doesn't understand still, and images flash through her brain of endless nights with her mother or father sleeping on the couch. But even if they're dysfunctional, they're still a family, right? She can't just give up on them.

Molly Weasley doesn't give up.

But he twines his fingers with hers and Apparates. They fall to the ground in front of the infamous Scamander house, and side by side, they walk in. Luna greets her with a big hug, asks her how she's doing, and basically fusses over her (because she and Audrey were close friends when they both worked in the Magical Creatures department so she knows everything that goes on at Molly's house). Though they're only really close best friends, Luna's under the impression that Molly and Lysander are dating.

Molly doesn't bother to correct her.

Luna shows Molly to her room, and Lysander follows not far behind. Once they get there, she yawns and grins at Lysander. "I'm tired, Ly. I'm going to sleep."

"All right," He says hastily. "Good night, then."

As he leaves, she wonders how someone so simple can be so cryptic.

…

The next morning, at breakfast, Lucy shows up. Her blue eyes meet Molly's and they both nod in understanding. Lucy reaches over and gives her sister a small hug before brightening and turning to Lorcan, hugging him as if there's nothing wrong.

She's always been a brilliant actress, anyway.

As they sit at the table, she watches as Luna and Rolf share a sweet kiss. Lucy and Lorcan keep sharing sweet smiles and vomit-inducing looks. With all the love exploding from the house (including her own), she wonders why Lysander does not believe in _love_.

After all, after the war, love was all they had left. It's not something to be taken for granted.

Lorcan leans over to kiss Lucy's cheek and Molly feels a surge of jealousy. She glances over at Lysander, as if she's expecting something, but he looks annoyed at the best. Biting her lip, she looks at the table and pretends that it's all okay. That she's not in love with someone who doesn't believe in love, that she's just perfectly okay, though obviously she is not.

Luna gives her a concerned look, but she tilts her head down as if the food is interesting all of a sudden.

She's Molly Weasley the second, and just her name is enough to make her ethereal, so what does she need Lysander Scamander for?

But as he sits there in all of his apathetic glory, she realises how very much she needs him and how much of a mess her life would be without him and his simplicity.

….

After the meal, he meets her by the pond and says softly, "Lorcan and Lucy have made it official."

"It's about time," She giggles softly. Since Lucy came to Hogwarts five years ago, the two of them have been as tight as Rose and Albus, but in a less cousinly manner. They'd always been touchy-feely, and everyone was just betting on when they would get together.

"Yeah, well, it won't last," Lysander tells her in his usual straightforward manner.

"But they love each other," Molly protests before frowning, expecting his response. _Love doesn't exist, so obviously they are not in love_.

"Molly, there's no such thing as love," He informs her calmly. "They may have some sick infatuation with each other but it's not _love_. Love is not a factor in this relationship, as it clearly does not exist…"

Frowning, she glares at him. "Ly, what's with you and claiming that love doesn't exist? Obviously it does exist. If it didn't, what would the world be?"

"A better place," Lysander replies, unaffected. "Hate can't exist without love."

"Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," Molly retorts, shaking her head. "Lord Tennyson, 1850."

"Who the freak is Lord Tennyson?" Lysander shakes his head as if he's scorning her. "And have you ever loved, Molly? How would _you_ know what love is?"

"It's not like you would care anyway, but I _have_ loved, Lysander," She tells him, staring at the ground. "I _do_ love. I know that love is present and that love exists, even if it's only one-sided."

He stares at her, not fathoming her once again. "Love only hurts, Molly. Don't put yourself out there like that."

She turns her back to him, glancing at the rippling of the river as it shatters the rock like the shattering of her heart. The river is rough, and so is her love life, obviously. All he can say is that _love_ _hurts_, when she's just put herself out there, made herself completely vulnerable- and he's shattered her, once again. It's not like she could've expected any more, anyway, and she was an idiot to even think that he would say anything else.

"Right then," She replies, frowning at him and his one-track mind. "Nice to know. I'll consider that next time, before I go and fall in love with an _idiot_." She spits the last word as if it's pure venom, because she's Molly and she's complicated and this is the way things go with her.

Her eyes meet his one more time before she walks off through the woods, going back to the house and hugging Luna one last time before she Apparates back to her house. She doesn't want to go there, but it's not as if she can stay with Lysander any longer. Obviously, she's made it clear that she's in love with _him_, and to stay in the same house as him is just pure torture.

The world fades before her and she falls to the ground in front of her house, possibly scraping her knees, but she's too numb to feel the pain and she wonders if _this_ is what it feels like to be Lysander.

…

Once she walks in, the house looks the same as it always does- in perfect organization, clean, not a thing out of place. But there's something about the atmosphere that seems out of place. It seems sadder, emptier, more like a funeral home than ever. She steps in nervously, quietly, her feet barely brushing the ground.

Slowly, she walks toward the dining room, where her mum and dad are sitting at the oversized kitchen table, in deep discussion that is too quiet for her to hear. Once she clears her throat, announcing her presence, the discussion halts completely and they both turn to stare at her with the saddest eyes she's ever seen. She bites her lip, wondering if someone has died or something.

"Molly," her father says softly, "sit down please."

Nervously, she nods her head and pulls out a chair as far away from the two of them as possible, her own personal act of rebellion. They just stare at her but don't object.

"Molly, honey," her mum begins in a soft tone, "You know how two people love each other very, very much, and then they get married, but things change- _people_ change- and the relationship doesn't always work out?"

"Well," Her father continues, "Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures," he uses one of her favourite quotes, "and you may have noticed that your mum and I haven't been getting along so well lately. And we don't want to make you girls- Lucy and you- have to suffer any more."

Her frightened blue-green eyes (the same as her mum's) dart from her mother to her father. In a frightened tone, she asks, "What do you mean?"

"We're getting a separation," Her mother tells her softly. Later, Molly decides that it might've been better if she shouted it, because the soft words still felt like a bullet to the heart. She'd seen them coming, but it was still a shock to know they were true- that her family really was dysfunctional, enough so that her parents were going to _separate_. It was her fault, really- she should've been there more often, tried to get her parents back together or something, but instead she'd just let them _fall_ _apart_ and what sort of bad daughter was she, now?

Her pained blue eyes flash from her mother to her father, and she feels numb again, rather like Lysander. In a dead voice, she asks, "You're kidding, right?"

"Would we kid you about something like this?" Her father replies seriously, staring at her.

Her voice cracks as she tries to speak again. "I just- I can't-"

"It's just some time apart," her mum reassures her in a comforting tone. "A month or two, maybe, and we'll see how it goes. It's only temporary, Molls…"

"Don't call me that," She says, running her hand through her curls and jumping to her feet. As she leaves, she hears behind her, "Lying, cheating… Penelope Clearwater… I still don't see why…"

As she leaves, she hears more yelling and more doors slamming. This will be the only thing that she won't miss after the separation.

But she doesn't forget to dwell over what she's just heard. Had her father cheated on her mother with some Penelope Clearwater? It just wasn't possible… right?

Sobs start to choke her and she has to get out of there.

….

She apparatus to the middle of nowhere, a flower field, somewhere, nowhere. The field is soft and the sky is clear and blue. She sort of wishes it would rain, as it's meant to in all sad stories, but the sky is clear and blue, reminiscent of her bad luck. Tears fall onto the flowers as she cries her heart out, because she's an idiot and now her parents have fallen apart too, all because of her.

From her pocket, she draws out a mirror. Glancing into it, she sees her puffy, tear-stained reflection- her bright red, curly hair, pale skin, freckles drawn out- and she realises how much she resembles her father, the lying, cheating idiot. Throwing the mirror to the ground, she watches as it shatters in front of her, breaking into tiny, delicate little sharp pieces. She takes pleasure in this- in seeing something else shatter- and she realises just how messed up she is.

It's forsaken that she should be doing any of this, but at the moment, she doesn't really care.

As her sobs start to fade into the darkness, she realises that she can't stay there for long, and no matter how angry she is with Lysander, there seems to be only one option.

Her only option is to go back to him, as pathetic as it may seem, because he's her best friend no matter what happens and she _needs_ him right now.

….

She Apparates to the front of the Scamander house, blood covering her arms from the sharp edges of the mirror and the small splinching she may have given herself. In essence, she looks like a complete mess, what with the tears streaking her face and all.

Lysander's the first to find her, of course, as it should be. Without asking any questions, he scoops her up easily in his strong arms and washes her off quickly. Wiping the tears from underneath her eyes, he states in his normal matter-of-fact voice, "It finally happened."

"They're separated, Ly, they are, and it's all my fault," she informs him.

He raises his eyebrow, as if he doesn't believe her (which obviously he doesn't). "It's not your fault. It's their own fault for getting married when they weren't in love."

"How about we just say it's no one's fault and leave it at that?" She jokes, though she's not really in a joking mood. "But don't let this prove your point right, it's only them…"

He nods and stares at her for a second, a minute, a few minutes, the weirdest look in his eye, before he scoops her up again. "And you were bleeding."

"That I was," She confirms. "I think I might've splinched myself, and erm, there was some sharp glass."

Setting her gently to the ground, he whips out his wand and runs it over her arm quickly, leaving a poorly done but still evident healed place. "You can get a better healer to look at it later, but this should be sufficient for now."

"Thanks, Ly," She replies thankfully, glancing down at her scar that will probably never heal completely and will instead just remind her of her idiocy.

"It's no problem," He reassures her, but he does so in a voice that makes her think that really, it is a problem, and he's just saying that. With a small nod, he smiles a very forced smile at her before taking off down the hallway, and she just watches him and wonders when the oblivious boy will figure it out.

For someone so simple, he's definitely hard to read.

….

The next day, though she doesn't expect him to, he meets her again by the pond. With a frown, he says unsurely (unusual for him), "You thought your parents separated because of you."

"Yes, I did, Ly," She sighs, gazing at her reflection. "It's called insecurity."

"What have you to be insecure about?" He inquires, asking her a _question_ for once. "Honestly, Molly, you're pretty, you're smart, you're a great writer… in fact, you're one of the few great people I've ever met. You're pure and that makes you…" He trails off, just staring at her, still looking unsure.

"That makes me what?" She asks quietly.

Shaking his head, he just frowns. "No. Never mind."

"And I have lots to be insecure about; Ly, my parents just split up and I didn't do anything to stop it. I just ran away like some sort of Slytherin or something," She scowls, as if it's the worst insult. "I'm _not_ Dominique, am I? I'm Molly and I'm supposed to be perfect and I have more layers to me than a common onion, don't I? Unlike Dominique…" She trails off, looking Lysander uncertainly in the eye.

He just laughs, startling her- _why is he laughing_? But then she laughs too and he wraps an arm around her shoulder, and she begins to consider the idea that everything might just be okay.

….

The first time he kisses her, it's by the lake.

She can't say that she saw it coming, because she didn't. She's only just spilling her heart out to him, once again, and realising how very much she comes to him for comfort and how she appreciates this. On a whim, she tells him this, and waits for him to reprimand her for being so sappy. She squeezes her eyes shut.

It's only then that she feels something soft on her lips, and strong hands wrapping around her, pulling her closer. She responds immediately, feeling on top of the world- he's finally doing something and she's not quite so lonely and pathetic anymore.

He pulls away and just stares at her, not doing anything. Her breath comes in heavy pants, but she manages to catch it long enough to demand, "What was that, Lysander?"

Uncomfortably, he shifts as he tries not to look at her. Finally, he sighs and just says it. "I love you, Molly."

Shocked, she asks, "What happened to not believing in love, Lysander?"

"You showed me what love is," He shrugs, as if it's no big deal. "And that sounds corny. But it's true. What I was going to say before was that makes you lovable. You're one of the- in fact, you're the only girl in the world that I _could_ love, as stupid as that sounds. Because you're Molly and you're safe and I know that you won't hurt me."

"I trust you too, Ly, and I love you," She whispers, feeling on top of the world, because maybe loving someone who doesn't believe in love isn't as hard as it seems. For a while, she manages to forget about her parents and her insecurities.

…

One day, the next week, when she moves in with her mum, she finds a package waiting in her room- a box of chocolates. She laughs and gives Lysander a big thank-you kiss the next time she sees him.

For Lysander Scamander, Molly Weasley is simple. For Molly Weasley, Lysander Scamander is simple.

And together, they make a wonderful harmony of simplicity.

**A/N: What, Mollysander number 15? Wow, I clearly have too much fun with this pairing. Probably because it's my OTP, but still.**

**This is for Bri, because she also loves Mollysander and she's one of the best people I know and I love her. Thanks for everything, darling. =) You're a great person and a great friend. **

**I enjoyed writing Lysander this way- it was just fun =D**

**Yeah, read and leave a review? What's the point in reading if you don't review? I mean, even if it's just 'good job' or something, it still gives some feedback and encourages me to write more. So yeah, leave a quick review, please.**

**Thanks for reading, anyway!**


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